The Cave
by Lif61
Summary: Lucifer brings Sam back to life after he's killed by vampires in Apocalypse World and Sam has to make an impossible choice. NOTE: This is a re-write of the cave scene with Sam and Lucifer in 13x21 "Beat the Devil".


**A/N: This is a re-write of the cave scene with Sam and Lucifer from 13x21 "Beat the Devil". I was mostly inspired by something I saw about Jared Padalecki talking about the original blocking for the scene and how originally Sam was supposed to come back with Lucifer right in his face instead of behind him, and I kind of just went from there. Most of the dialogue is the same, but I changed quite a bit of the actions.**

 **TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of rape.**

* * *

Sam was floating in darkness, and then, life, breath. He gasped, sucking in all the oxygen he could, surprised that he was even doing so. And then he opened his eyes. It felt like the air that was now in his lungs was instantly stolen from him when he saw a face that haunted his nightmares hovering not even an inch from his. He tried to get away, scrabbling uselessly, but there was only rough ground beneath him.

Suddenly, ice cold lips were against his. It was only a second, but it left Sam breathless and trembling with fear.

"Hey, Sammy," the Devil said, a huge grin on his face.

"Get… get off me," Sam puffed out, having a hard time controlling his breathing. He could scarcely breathe as it was, and adrenaline and fear had shot through him so rapidly when he'd seen that face near his, when he'd touched him, that it'd hurt, leaving him all tingly. And it didn't help that Satan was nearly on him, his hands on either side of his head, his legs straddling him. He wasn't touching him though, was managing to keep himself off of him, but he was _so close_.

"Come on, don't you want another kiss?" he teased in a low voice. "You didn't even kiss back that time."

Sam had the sudden urge to rip his own lips off, but he remained still, save for the quivering in his body.

"Get _off_."

Lucifer touched his neck, as if he was caressing it, or maybe admiring his work. The bite the vampire had taken out of him was no longer there, and Sam could feel it even as he touched him. His frigid fingers and palm against him made him shiver, as did the truth of his current situation. Being back, the injury that had killed him no longer being there though he was splattered with his own blood - he knew what it meant.

"In a sec. I just want to remember this moment."

"W-what moment?"

Then it dawned on him. Lucifer wanted him to recognize what he'd done. But… He couldn't have, he wouldn't… Why would he…?

"No," Sam breathed, not wanting to believe any of this.

"Yeah," Lucifer said almost sheepishly. Though, he seemed pleased with the horror that must've been in Sam's eyes.

He finally stood, drawing away into the shadows, and Sam instantly climbed to his feet, hand on the side of his neck. He turned towards the Devil, wanting to keep his eye on him, and as he did so he backed away, nearly into the darkness behind him, but staying just within the dim light cast by the opening in the roof above. The creaking of the fan's rusted, metal blades filled the silence, and shadows danced upon the ground.

Lucifer wasn't doing much, just playing with a cobweb that hung down from some old wooden panels near the cave roof, a bored expression on his face as he contemplated it.

No, it couldn't be. He wasn't actually here. Lucifer wasn't actually here.

But he was in the same caves he'd died in; he was sure of it. The rock was still the same dark brown tint, and he could smell the same rotten odor in the chilly yet musty air.

Maybe this was his own personal Hell. Maybe demons were making him think he was with Lucifer again.

Or maybe not.

But then… how was he here?

And, how was Sam here?

He knew, but...

Sam had been dead.

And now he wasn't.

And Lucifer was an archangel.

But…

No.

Lucifer sighed, most likely sensing Sam's trouble with accepting the situation. "I mean, you could do the whole pinch yourself, rub your eyes thing, or you could put on your big boy pants and just, you know, cut right to the realization that yep, it's me."

"Y-y-you brought me back."

That wasn't right. Why had he? Why could he possibly want Sam alive?

Sam's thoughts drew back to a dark motel room, his throat aching with the weight of the memory. Lucifer, in the same form he was in now, across from him.

" _I will kill myself before letting you in._ "

" _I'll just bring you back._ "

That couldn't be the reason. Lucifer didn't need him like that anymore.

Why did he need him? He must need him for something.

His mind was yanked back to the Cage, as if pulled by a chain - blood, screaming, agony, Lucifer's skin against his. It was an effort for Sam to not look away from the Devil as he faced him, the same Devil who had done _all_ of that to him. And he'd… he'd touched him again after bringing him back.

Maybe…

 _No, no, no…_

"I did," Lucifer affirmed proudly, driving it home that he had in fact resurrected him. He brought himself a bit closer, making Sam take a half-step back.

 _He's lying, he's lying, he's lying._

But then how _could_ he be alive?

He _had_ brought him back. That was the truth, the rotten to the core, ugly, horrific truth.

"You're welcome," he added, smiling at him again.

His smile unnerved him. Usually his smiles meant that he had… ideas.

But he just seemed proud of himself for some reason. It was like he expected Sam to thank him, to praise him, to… to… to feel like he owed him something.

He swallowed roughly, tears in his eyes at the very prospect that he owed his life to Lucifer, his torturer, his rapist.

"Why?" he asked, barely able to get the word out past the lump of emotion taking over his throat.

"Oh, well, I'm getting to that."

Then something dawned on Sam, and he widened his eyes, gasping.

"The rift!" Sam turned, having the sudden urge to go all the way back to make sure their way out was still there. Lucifer could've messed with it. Why wouldn't he? "The rift." Oh god… He turned back to him, afraid for what truth his next word might bring. "Rowena." Just speaking in short bursts made him feel pathetic. He was too sickened, too fearful to even form full sentences at the moment.

"Oh, she's okay," the Devil calmly assured. Sam wasn't sure he believed him, but he did feel slight relief. He didn't know what he'd do if he hurt her. "I mean I… I was gonna kill her, but she blasted me here before I had the chance to, so it's great, self-defense. But uh, I was comin' here anyway."

Sam was too terrified to feel glad that Lucifer wouldn't have been able to kill Rowena even if he'd tried. He was still with him. He still didn't know _why_ he was here, or _how_ he was here.

His skin crawled as their eyes met for a brief second.

"But we drained you," Sam reasoned, voice rough as he struggled to find the strength to speak.

Oh god, why hadn't it worked?

He'd felt so good seeing Lucifer on his knees, his Grace leaving the reddened, open wound in his throat.

What an idiot. He was such an idiot. Of course it was too good to be true.

Lucifer came forward, and Sam just froze. Had to get away. He had to get away. But he couldn't. It was like ice had been dumped into all of his limbs. The Devil grabbed his jacket, pulling him close. He straightened out the article of clothing a bit before brushing some dirt off him.

"So how did I pull off my little Lazarus trick?" he questioned quietly, his tone making it evident that it was just the two of them in that cave. He roughly wiped Sam's neck, some of the drying blood coming away on his fingers, and then he stuck out his tongue and very deliberately ran his bloodied pointer finger along it, his blue eyes dark. Sam's stomach turned, and it felt like his lungs were being crushed, his intake of air shaky. Satan sucked his fingers into his mouth for just a second, and then smacked his lips together as if Sam's blood was delicious. He playfully ran his wettened fingers along his neck again as he went on, "Uh, that's a long story, but I was basically tracking you here, and then I came across a handful of Michael's angels and I… ate 'em." He took a step back, biting on his bottom lip, his eyebrows lowered as if he was going over everything he'd just said, and Sam was left feeling like he was going to collapse. "Guess it's not really a long story, is it?"

Sam braved the question that had been plaguing him since he'd been brought back, but even that hardly wanted to leave him - the words were quiet, tired: "What do you want?"

"What do I want? I want what everyone wants," he said, spreading his hands in an all-encompassing manner. It sickened Sam, made him feel like he was a part of what Lucifer was talking about though he wanted nothing to do with him.

And now…

And now he was tied to him again, wasn't he?

He'd brought him back.

"I want a personal apology from Pop. I want re-run, free, year-round episodes of _Drag Race_."

"Yeah, got it. Okay, right." He gave Lucifer a determined look, clenching his jaw. He was going to leave him here, break the new tie between them, hoping he'd never see him again. "We're done here."

He cautiously leaned forward to grab his bag - which was still on the floor - and he nearly stumbled as he did so since he was so terrified that he had to move _closer_ to Satan. But he did it, he grabbed it, keeping an eye on him all the while

"Are you going?" Lucifer asked, his voice much too calm.

It confused Sam, but that wouldn't change the fact that he was getting the hell out of there.

The Devil offered up a flashlight, one he must've grabbed from Sam's bag earlier. "Here. It's dark out there."

Feeling just a little smug, and beyond relieved he didn't have to accept anything from Lucifer he didn't want, at least for this single moment, Sam reached into his bag without taking his eyes off the archangel across from him, and pulled out his own flashlight, turning it on.

In return he received an unimpressed, but still bitter look.

Then Sam turned to go.

He jumped, instantly being met with a horde of growling vampires, their bloodied, unwashed bodies taking up the tunnel, their lightless eyes on him, ready to devour more. Throbbing started up in his neck. He just stared, his hopes of getting away crashing to the ground and shattering into jagged shards of despair and panic. Sam gulped, his mouth going dry.

"Yeah, they're sorta all over there and I'm holding 'em back," Lucifer explained.

 _Oh god. Oh god._

Would he release the vampires on him? Had he set this all up?

Of course he had. He was the Devil. Sam was his. In this moment, he was his. He was at his nonexistent mercy, only able to do what he wanted.

Satan continued, "They're just waiting for a little snap of the fingers, but I didn't want 'em flooding in here and eatin' ya again… not until after we finished our convo."

Sam stared at the vampires for a few more seconds. Thirsty, starving monsters in front of him, the Devil behind him. Trapped. He was completely, and utterly trapped.

All because of _him_.

He turned to him, roaring, " _What_ do you _want_?!"

His breathing was heavy after his short outburst, suddenly fearful of the emotions he'd just expressed, at raising his voice at Lucifer. He wouldn't like that. Surely he would punish him. He lowered his hand, which he'd had held up, ready to snap his fingers.

Lucifer slowly walked over to him, Sam's breathing growing shallower and shallower with each accentuated footstep.

"I want what you already have," he answered. Sam frowned, not understanding, but the Devil wasn't done talking yet. "A relationship with my son."

 _Jack._

No, no. He couldn't let him near Jack. Jack was young, easily swayed by the world around him since he still had much to learn and took many things at face value. Lucifer could manipulate him, Sam was sure. All he'd need to do was talk to him. Lucifer could manipulate anyone if he put his mind to it. He'd manipulated Sam, and Jack was surely much more corruptible.

If Jack went darkside the world could burn.

And what was left of Apocalypse World could burn.

The _universe_ could burn.

But Jack was much more than just a powerful being, or a weapon, as Lucifer most likely wanted to use him as.

He was his family. _Sam's_ family, and the fact that Lucifer wanted to take that from him just like he'd taken everything else tore at his heart in a way he hadn't expected.

Jack was… Jack was his _son_. Not Lucifer's. _His_.

That relationship that Lucifer said he wanted with him? It couldn't be real.

Sam hung his head, disbelief etched onto his face.

"Okay, there was a time that I would, you know, just grab him, but I've grown."

Sam eyed the closing distance between them in outright disbelief, and he had the urge to wipe off the unwanted kiss from a couple minutes ago, to just cleanse himself of Lucifer's touch.

"Yeah, sure you have," he said sarcastically, reaching out an arm to shove him away from him.

He wasn't sure where that sliver of bravery came from, but it was all for naught: Lucifer grabbed his arm, even with the flashlight in his hand, and pulled him closer, his eyes going red. The words he said didn't match the all too recognizable anger on his face, "I have, Samuel." Satan leaned in as his eyes turned that deep blue again, his mouth going right up against Sam's ear, making him shudder as he felt his lips and his breath teasing his sensitive nerves, "I want my son. And you're gonna help me."

Questions as to how he was going to do that started going through Sam's head, and memories flooded his mind.

The Cage.

Pain.

Pleasure.

Anguish.

"How?" Sam got out.

"Well," he began, leaning back and tilting his head at Sam, as if he was eyeing him up and down, "I don't feel like he'll give me a chance unless I come bearing gifts." His other hand was on him now, making him flinch. He pressed it against his chest, right over his pounding heart. "That's you."

Sam shook his head, and turned away from him, biting his bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

The Devil released him, but he remained close. Too close.

"Look, Sammy, I'm-I'm not asking you to-to like _it_ or to like _me_. All I'm asking is that you acknowledge the truth - that I was the one who brought you back to life, that I was the one who lifted you from the darkness and into the light. Okay?"

Sam let out a long, pained breath as Lucifer's words stomped on the shards of his hope that had turned to despair and crushed them into dust, dust that seemed to travel inside his throat, his lungs, and choke him, suffocate him. He closed his eyes.

It hurt how wrong Lucifer was, but how right he was, too.

He'd brought him back, back from the darkness.

But Lucifer was _not_ the light. Being tethered to him only brought more darkness, a darkness that was more crushing and impending than the one he'd been met with when the vampires had dragged him off. Death was darkness, and Lucifer was the void, a yawning, insatiable chasm of sin and vile, evil wants. His very existence seemed to suck out part of Sam's life, till he was left hollow and hurting and empty of good, and sometimes just the mere thought of him was enough to make his blood freeze over as it felt like his bones boiled under a hot, red stare, his skin and body being violated from a brutal touch. His chest hurt, his insides hurt, way deep down, as if his very soul was bleeding.

And the Devil was _still_ talking, still going as if Sam didn't need a break to comprehend all of this. His mind was on fire from it. "Apocalypse World, Michael's armies - you and your family really think you can handle that stuff alone?"

Sam sniffled, feeling as if his nose was going to start running, and his eyes stung with unshed tears. Lucifer was still intently looking at him, his gaze penetrating and relentless, but Sam couldn't face him now, just looked out into the dark.

"You need me."

"And what if I say no?"

Lucifer squinted at him, and then wiped a hand over his mouth as he cleared his throat, as if he'd had enough of Sam saying no to last him his very long life. He had said it a lot. _No_ might be the one word he'd said most to Lucifer. He'd said it during the Apocalypse, he'd said it over and over again in the Cage (though it was never listened to), he'd said it after Lucifer had manipulated him into going to Hell to talk with him, and he was considering saying it now.

 _No_. A two-letter word, a word that didn't always seem to have meaning to him. But it had two years ago, and if he chose to say it now, then surely it would having meaning. Right? It had to have that power. It had to.

"Alright, let me just make this really, really, really easy, _easy_ enough for even you to understand, Sammy. I'm getting to Jack, one way or the other. The only question is, you comin' with?" He pointed the flashlight behind Sam, in the direction of the raving vampires, who howled into the cave when light landed on them. "Or that?"

Sam turned, his mouth open, and he knew that Lucifer was ready to snap his fingers at any second.

"Your move, champ."

Death by vampires again or Lucifer?

Death by vampires again or Lucifer?

Why would he choose Lucifer?

But why would he choose death?

He had no choice, really.

Both options were bad, unspeakably bad. Atrocious.

Both would cause him to suffer, and if he agreed then he'd… He'd be Lucifer's bitch again. He'd told himself that he would never let that happen again, and Lucifer knew he would never be ready to be that.

His mind traveled back to Hell, back to a different cage, a meeting he'd been led to with promises of the universe's salvation.

" _I'm ready to die, and I'm ready to watch the people I love die, but I'm not ready to be your bitch._ "

Was now any different?

 _Say yes and you're his bitch again, Sammy,_ a harsh voice whispered in his head.

But this _was_ different. Wasn't it? This wasn't the Darkness. This was Jack.

Still, his options weren't his own. They'd been forced upon him like everything else Satan had to give. It was his fault.

And here he was, staring down a long dark tunnel, monsters that had killed him, that wanted him dead again, driven mad for blood, with the need to get in and grab him in front of him, and Lucifer, his torturer, his rapist, the freakin' _Devil_ behind him.

There was no right choice.

For a second Sam truly considered picking death.

Death was better than _him_ , than having to help him, to be near him, to have to hear him speak, to look at him and know he was _free_ and _alive_.

But he'd get to Jack either way.

Sam needed to help his family.

 _My family. I'll do it for my family._

For them, Sam could do anything, even brave the Devil.

With this decision to remain alive, a lot of baggage would surely come with it. Lucifer had brought him back, and he'd brought him back for this, to use him once more.

But this wasn't choosing to be possessed by him. There was one, very clear distinction between the decision he'd made during the Apocalypse and the decision he was going to make now: this time his body was his own, no matter what Lucifer thought of it. Sure, he was his true vessel, sure, he had risen him from the dead. But he wasn't in him, and he wouldn't let him be in him again. After this, he could exercise what free will of his still remained, he could help his family, he could save Jack from Lucifer.

Sam steeled himself, taking in a deep breath, and turned to Satan. His fingers were still raised, ready to snap them and let the vampires in to kill him.

"Yes." A pause as he could scarcely believe the words coming out of his mouth. It was like his heart had stopped. What he said next didn't seem to come from him, like he no longer had control over his body and it was someone else speaking, the words too terrifying to comprehend: "I'll help you."

Lucifer lowered his hand, and smiled.


End file.
